Ghost of You
by Need2Scream
Summary: Tracks is...unbalanced. Everyone knows it, even he knows it. He's a threat to himself and everyone around him. But he's a vicious force of nature when unleashed on the frontlines. Like any fighting dog, they keep him chained up until he's needed. That is...until he slips his chain. *2nd Installment of "Street True" AU
1. Chapter 1

Fourth shift is when the ghosts are the loudest.

Tracks wanders blindly down the hall humming along to a tune only he hears. In his head the ghosts sing along. A bawdy tune from the pub he and the pale brown mech used to recharge behind. He laughs and sings the chorus, his voice bouncing off the walls echoing in the empty halls but the halls aren't there. He's in the bar listening to the gangs slur the words and fall over each other as they reach the end of another bottle. But the ghosts laugh and sing with him. They're always with him. Sometimes that makes him angry and he does things like trying to crush Beachcomber's head, but not often.

The dull silver tiles squeak under his feet. _Squeak…squeak…squeak…_ They blur together to a long strip of cracked sidewalk. He recognizes the sidewalk, he's walked down it a thousand times. There's the shimmer of broken glass in the gutter and on the pavement where the streetlight is broken. The scent of cooking food wafts past him. Wind blows wrappers and cans around in the empty chained lots. Broken out windows look down on him, a few have strips of cloth fluttering in them and if he's quick enough he can catch suspicious optics looking down on him from the darkness. The sidewalk wavers under his feet and becomes silver metal shining under fluorescents. _Squeak…squeak…squeak…_ He waves at the security camera as he passes. But the ghosts saw the sidewalk and now they're talking to him.

 _Squeak…squeak…squeak…_ Sunlight reflects off a faded billboard and far off the fancy high rises of Tarn glitter like giant broken pieces of glass. The soft squeak his feet make on the tile flows together and becomes a quiet giddy voice in his audio. _Squeak…squeak…_ "Whaddaya say we go to the park. Nice orn, those nursemaids always bring they bratty high class brats out. We swipe some sweets, a few credits, boom, we got a place to recharge tonight and we got food." His frame is a pale brown next to Tracks' scratched and scarred black. There's a strange squeaking coming from somewhere but he can't remember where, but he tries to ignore it because he's hungry.

"Cruiser," he says ducking into an alley. _Squeak…squeak…squeak…_ The mech follows waving it off. They're too small to get picked up for the draft, but that's no reason to be on the radar. That's what they say, they say only the young adults get drafted, but some of the other juveniles have suddenly gone missing. Sure some of them died, but not that many, that only happens after the enforcers cruise through.

They hang out on the other side of a dumpster as the enforcer coasts by. "Screw the sweet stuff, find some keys. Then we can have a place to recharge _and_ find somethin' to sell," he says the the mech with the pale brown frame. _Squeak…squeak…squeak…_ From the street there's a crackle and then a loud voice echoing through the quiet streets. _Draft numbers 167 through 200 are advised to be at the municipal office no later than 0800 tomorrow morning._

They look at each other, the pale brown mech rolls his optics. The recording starts to repeat until there's a loud crack and the sound of glass shattering. A second later the cruiser's tires squeal and the engine revs as it tears away. There's another crack and laughter. _Squeak…squeak…squeak…_ "Do you hear that?" he asks.

"You're up early, glitchy." Bright lights. Bright, bright lights. Bright lights shining on metal. The orderly is bigger than him, but he's slow and thinks he's stronger. He has a syringe.

 _Squeak….squeak…squeak…_

Strapped to a gurney he can't do much, not even twist he head. One of the wheels is squeaky, the one on the right by his foot. That's the one. Bright lights pass overhead. _Squeak…squeak…squeak…_ A little oil could fix that. A little grease. He wonders if energon will fix it. He'll find out as soon as he gets his hand loose. He giggles.

The squeaking stops because he's stopped. He blinks and the sidewalk is gone and the orderly is gone and the squeaking has stopped. He's not in the facility anymore. He's on the _Ark_ on E deck. The ghosts scamper around him whispering to him but they haven't learned to take turns so their voices are just a soft jumble in his head. He stares at the lift and thinks about going back to his room. Turning away he starts walking in the other direction listening to his feet squeak on the floor talking to whispers only he can hear.

 **oOo**

 **A/N:** Second installment of _Street True_ AU. If you haven't read _Master's Apprentice_ , it won't matter too much. But you might be confused about some of the OCs and relationships and whatnot. With that being said, if you have a free afternoon/evening I recommend you read _Master's Apprentice_ before delving into Tracks' story.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!


	2. Chapter 2

Engines rumble under his feet and against his back. The seats in dropships are as uncomfortable as they've always been. But some things have changed. He can see the ghosts scattered around the dropship. There's not as much crying on this shuttle as there is in his mind. He stares straight ahead.

 _I don't wanna go!_

 _Don't make me go!_

 _Help me, someone help me!_

The ghosts flicker around him. There's one hiding next to Trailbreaker; she rocks herself back and forth clutching a piece of armor that's charred on one side. He doesn't think she ever spoke then and she doesn't now. And there's another one who tries to vomit but nothing comes out. Optics glitchy white dart around the ship before he leans forward and heaves 's a pale brown frame next to him or maybe that's Brawn. Sometimes he doesn't try really hard to tell who's a ghost and who isn't.

He blinks and realizes he's not staring out a window but at a bulkhead, Suntreaker is in front of him. The yellow mech is staring straight back at him but it's a stare Tracks has seen before. Usually he sees in in the mirror. Sunstreaker is talking to his own ghosts. The hull rattles. There's a faint smell of hot metal that comes through the vents during reentry.

 _I don't wanna go!_

 _Don't make me go!_

 _Help me, someone help me!_

He remembers them now. The ghosts on the ship with him. He looks over the others and there they are couched in with the others. The femme with the pretty blue-grey frame is so scared she can't scream. And the mech with the dented grey armor is trying to get loose from the restraints. Energon smears over the restraints as he claws at them and himself trying to find a way to get don't have their weapons yet. They did, but when they got on the ship that one femme ate a plasbolt before anyone could stop her. He's starting to think she had the right idea. He doesn't even have a knife anymore to slit his throat. He's been trying to get loose since they took off but the restraints are new and well anchored. He can't even get a screw to wiggle.

There's the CO walking down the middle out of reach of feet and hands. The mech trying to get loose is already glitched and screaming. _I don't wanna go! Don't make me go! Help me, someone help me!_ The CO tells him to shut up.

No, wait. That's Ironhide and he's telling Cliffjumper to shut up. Tracks giggles and Sunstreaker blinks. They stare at each other for a long moment but the ghosts are still yelling.

 _I don't wanna go!_

 _Don't make me go!_

 _Help me, someone help me!_

But there's something else in his head that's not a ghost. He blinks again and now he's paying attention but the message is over. "What?" he asks no one. Or maybe he's asking the ghosts, sometimes they have answers.

"Be ready to shoot," Sunstreaker snaps. His ghosts always leave him cranky. If they leave. He doesn't think Sunstreaker's ghosts leave him either. They stay and scream at him just like Tracks'. Tracks smiles at him because he's always ready to shoot, just like Sunstreaker. Because sometimes the only thing that quiets the ghosts are the screams of the living. Sunstreaker stares at him a few seconds longer and then he smiles too.

 _I don't wanna go!_

 _Don't make me go!_

 _Help me, someone help me!_

 **oOo**

Tyger Pax had been trees and sun and fire when they flew in. It had mountains wreathed in clouds and bright sapphire blue oceans. This place has trees and sun, but no fire. Not yet. Everything is flat but there are lots of trees.

He thinks they're being quiet. He can't tell. He's still with the ghosts as their shuttle comes into Tyger Pax. The femme next to him is crying and holding her rifle tight enough to dent. The smoke is so heavy they can't see the ground. Glitchy white optics flash all around him. Big guns in small hands, hot breaths coming too fast as the shuttle jumps and bounces getting closer and closer to the smoke and fire. The pale brown frame next to him is shaking harder than the ship. Fingers clench around his wrist hard enough to dent but Tracks doesn't feel it. He thinks it should hurt.

 _We're all gonna die_

 _I don't wanna go!_

 _We're all gonna die_

 _Don't make me go!_

 _We're all gonna die_

 _Help me, someone help me!_

Or maybe that's shade? Yes. Shade. They're moving through the shade and this isn't Tyger Pax. He blinks and looked around. He doesn't remember getting off the ship. The femme next to him is a cold opticked sniper. He knows her name but it's too hard to think of it right now because the shuttle is slowing and the CO is screaming at them to move, but they're so scared they stay where they are. The restraints click open and they're free, but only if they jump out into that black smoke. Turbulence hits them and half of them are thrown to the floor. Big guns skitter across the metal and slide under seats. The back hatch opens and above there's pretty blue sky and below there's black smoke. A seeker streaks by and now someone is yelling at him.

 _We're all gonna die_

 _I don't wanna go!_

 _We're all gonna die_

 _Don't make me go!_

 _We're all gonna die_

 _Help me, somone help me!_

He blinks and finds Sunstreaker in his face. "Focus," he snaps. He's not yelling, but his voice is louder than the echoes of ghosts. They're moving again in their quiet way. The trees are pretty and there isn't any smoke. He thinks this place might be nice. Tracks follows Sunstreaker, his optics on his sun bright, fire yellow back. Like the fire after the missiles hit. The fire and screams and smoke.

 _We're all gonna die_

 _We're all gonna die_

There's fire in front of him and energon on the floor. Now even the shuttle is screaming as its hull twists and burns. He feels light, like he might fly as it dips to the ground. There's black smoke inside too, he only catches flashes of optics bright like stars in the smoke. To his side is the open hatch and he can see the pretty blue Tyger Pax sky and there are screams. "We gotta go, Tracks! C'mon, we gotta go!" A pale brown frame next to him, pulling him forward because he's so scared he can't move on his own. The femme with the pretty blue-grey frame curls up in her seat and covers her head with her arms.

 _We're all gonna die_

 _We're all gonna die_

And now they're moving. They're running for the pretty blue Tyger Pax sky because the sky is better than the fire. Falling, falling…falling. The shuttle streaks across the sky like a fiery comet shedding metal and bodies. The sky disappears under a cover of chocking black smoke. A branch catches him in the side and snaps and he's still falling and more branches are snapping. There's fire here too. It burns the trees, burns the animals, and burns the ones who fall in it. He falls away from it but he can't breathe. The shuttle slams into the ground making more fire and smoke.

 _Please don't leave me,_ his pale brown frame is mangled from the fire and the fall. _Please don't leave me._ Energon as blue as the sky stains the glossy dark green plants around them, mixes with the soot and turns navy blue. Something is coming. He said he wouldn't leave, didn't he? He promised that, didn't he. _Please don't leave me._ Something is coming. He lifts his rifle and shoots because he promised he wouldn't leave. Screams, such loud screams, it feels like his audios are going to burst.

He blinks and the smoke is shade and the energon staining the ground doesn't belong to a pale brown frame but to a dark mech with red armor. "Tracks, what did you do?" The screams are so loud. Everything is so loud.

"Take the gun away from him!" They take the rifle, but that's fine. He prefers his blades. Ghosts flit around the edges of the scene. Sometimes he sees the fire and sometimes the shade is smoke so thick he can't breathe. _Please don't leave me._

"Tracks, can you even hear me?"

"He's fraggin' glitched!"

He blinks and there is one face but two bodies in front of him. No, not one face. Two faces that are the same. Twins. Twins colored like fire. "Can you hear me?" Sideswipe asks again. Sunstreaker just stares at him. It's still too loud, but the ghosts have left for now and he can focus. Cliffjumper is bleeding; did he do that? He doesn't really like Cliffjumper, so…probably.

The sniper has her weapon aimed at him. Moonracer. That's her name. She looks fierce with her big gun and glare, but she's not as fast as him. They're never as fast as him. He smiles and thinks maybe that was the wrong thing to do because now it's loud again. But Sunstreaker is back in his face. "Focus, idiot," he growls. "You shot Cliffjumper, do you even remember?" He's ignoring all the loud things, so Tracks ignores the loud things too. He tries to remember shooting Cliffjumper but the ghosts had been loud and now they're quiet and he doesn't remember anything. He shrugs and shakes his head. There's a lot of energon around Cliffjumper. But it's not so much he's dead. He doesn't know why everyone is being so loud.

There's a ghost still in the shade with a pale brown frame. His optics are bright and there's fire behind him. _Please don't leave me._

 **oOo**

 **A/N:** I don't know why I'm always throwing Cliffjumper under the bus. Sorry Cliff fans! Anyway, I wrote this to Linkin Park's new song _Heavy_.


End file.
